


I Will Make You Hurt

by relised



Series: My Empire of Dirt [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:18:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relised/pseuds/relised
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If beating the shit out of Ian keeps him safe from Terry in the long run, then that's just what Mickey will have to do. No matter how much it hurts them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Make You Hurt

“You feel better now?” Ian yelled, trying to push himself off the ground. The pain radiating from his stomach and face made that near impossible, though. “That make you feel like a man?”

He watched as Mickey paced in front of him, his back turned to Ian. Mickey ran a hand down his face. He seemed to tense as Ian continued to talk, and Ian could hear his breath coming out in rasps. He thought he had won. He thought Mickey was finally going to admit that maybe, just maybe, Ian actually meant something to him. Instead, Mickey closed the distance between them, brought his foot back and kicked Ian in the jaw.

He let out a grown of pain, blood flying out of his mouth. Mickey brought his foot back again, landing another kick to Ian’s ribs. Ian whimpered, trying to make himself as small as possible. Mickey sneered down at him before he kept walking.

“Feel better now,” he called, and Ian heard the whiskey bottle Mickey had been carrying shatter when he threw it over his shoulder. He could hear Mickey’s boots hitting the gravel and he tried to pull himself up to follow. Ian couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him, though, at the pain in his ribs. He fell back to the ground, laying there for a while longer before he passed out from the pain.

* * *

 

Mickey stopped at the end of the ally, glancing back, knowing he could still see Ian. The boy was huddled on the ground and it killed Mickey to know that he wasn’t moving. He thought about going back, making sure Ian was okay and that Mickey hadn’t gone too far. But he was doing this to save Ian and giving in now was just going to make things worse. He stood staring until he had to look away, his stomach lurching. Mickey leaned against the nearby wall, vomiting all the alcohol he’d been drinking for the past hour.

When he finally stopped, he groaned and pulled out a cigarette. As he lit it, he felt around his pockets for his phone. Mickey quickly called Iggy, glancing behind him again to see that Ian still hadn’t moved.

“Dad’s looking for you,” Iggy answered and Mickey cursed under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Listen, where are you right now?”

“Meat packing district,” Iggy said, and Mickey had to smother his sigh of relief.

“Can you stop at that abandoned office building the corner of Dorr and Lewis? There’s a closet on the first floor that still has a door. I’ve got a stash in there. Just make sure you come around from the back, that alley off of Lewis. There’s some crazy lady who watches the front and would probably call the cops on you for breaking in,” Mickey lied, hoping Iggy bought it.

“Yeah, I guess dude. I’m here anyway.”

“I owe you man,” Mickey said, letting out a sigh. “I gotta go find dad. See ya later.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Keep your head low and you might not get pistol whipped before your wedding,” Iggy joked and Mickey flinched, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off. Just go get my stash.” He hung up without another word.

* * *

 

Someone was shaking Ian, and with every shake a bolt of pain shot through his body, making him see lights behind his closed eye lids.

“Gallagher,” the voice said, and that brought another shake. Ian moaned, wanting to pull away but not being able to. “Gallagher, wake up!”

The voice sounded so familiar, and for a moment Ian even believed that Mickey had come back for him. He slowly opened his right eye, the left eye swollen shut. The sun beat down on him, partially blinding him until the owner of the voice leaned down in front of him and blocked his view. And it was the wrong Milkovich staring down at him.

“Iggy,” he mumbled, his voice coming out slurred. He had bit through his lip and his mouth was full of blood. Ian tilted his head to the side, trying to spit out the blood pulling in there.

“Shit, Gallagher, what the fuck happened?” Iggy asked, his eyes wide. “Who did this you?”

Ian had never really been friends with Iggy. True, he had no problem with the guy, but he wasn’t as level headed as Mandy and Mickey. Which was just ironic since Mickey was the biggest hothead Ian knew. Clearly. But Ian wasn’t stupid enough to think he could tell Iggy that Mickey had done this and not have to explain why.

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know the guy. He just came out of nowhere.”

“Shit,” Iggy said, pulling at his hair slightly. “You think anything’s broken?” Ian did a mental check over before shrugging.

“Maybe a rib? It might just be bruised, I can’t tell,” he said, poking gently at his side before flinching. He figured his jaw wasn’t broken if it wasn’t agonizing to talk. He looked up at Iggy who still had a confused and worried look on his face.

“Okay. Okay, I can deal with that. Here, get up. I’ll get you home. Mandy would have my balls if I left you here.” With that Iggy leaned forward, grabbing Ian’s arm and hauling him to his feet. Ian swayed slightly before he bent at his waist and threw up. “Jesus,” Iggy yelled, and Ian could tell he wanted to pull away. But the older Milkovich stayed where he was, holding Ian up by his elbow. “You think you’re good to go?” He asked after a minute and Ian hesitated before nodding.

Iggy pulled the arm he was holding so it was slung over his shoulder, and Ian slumped against him. Iggy mumbled something Ian couldn’t understand but carried the brunt of Ian’s weight. They moved slowly, Ian’s breath coming out in a wheeze.

“So what made this guy jump you?” Iggy asked after a block and Ian bit his lip. He couldn’t very well say he’d tried to force the guy to admit he was gay.

“I think Frank owes him money,” he mumbled at last, dragging Iggy to a stop when the world started to spin just slightly. “Knew I was one of his kids and decided to teach Frank a lesson. Which is shit ‘cause it’s not like Frank actually likes me.”

“Fuck, yeah I get that,” Iggy said, gently pulling Ian along to get him to keep walking. “Don’t think Terry likes any of us. Maybe Mandy.” Ian wanted to comment that Terry definitely liked Mandy when he was drunk but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if any of Mandy’s brother’s knew about that.

“Yeah,” Ian said instead, squeezing Iggy’s shoulder so the boy stopped. Ian bent again, dry heaving.

“It’s like two more blocks, Gallagher,” Iggy said. “Maybe three. You gonna make it that far?”

“Just give me a minute,” Ian mumbled, leaning against a nearby wall. This wasn’t the first time Mickey had gotten rough with him. This was, however, the only time Mickey’d gone too far. Everything hurt and Ian wasn’t sure he would actually make it back to the house without passing out again. Iggy kept glancing nervously around.

“I could call Mickey? Have him bring the car? It would cut this trip down,” Iggy suggested.

“No,” Ian growled, taking a deep breath. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine. Mickey’s probably busy.” Iggy nodded, his eye twitching slightly. Finally Ian pushed himself off the wall, swaying slightly. Iggy grabbed his arm again. Ian took a deep breath and nodded. Iggy silently drug him along.

It took them forever but they finally made it to Ian’s house. Lip was sitting on the front step smoking, and he jumped to his feet when he saw them.

“What the fuck?” He asked, throwing Ian’s other arm around his shoulder. Iggy and Lip were both shorter than Ian, but he was so stooped over that it didn’t matter.

“Found him in the meat packing district,” Iggy groaned, dragging Ian up the front walk. “Behind that old office building on the corner of Dorr and Lewis. He said he didn’t know the guy, but it was about Frank.”

“It’s always about Frank,” Lip said, rolling his eyes. They stopped at the foot of the stairs and Ian swayed, trying to pull away so he could sit down. “No no no,” Lip called, tightening his grip to keep Ian standing. “You sit now, I’m never going to be able to get you up. Just a bit further, buddy.” Ian groaned, his head lulling against his stretched out arm.

“Come on, Gallagher,” Iggy said, and they slowly pulled Ian up the front steps. He whimpered with every step, deciding that his rib was definitely broken. 

“I got it from here, Ig,” Lip said, nodding his thanks. “Thanks for bringing him home.”

“Yeah, well, Mandy would have my balls if I left him,” Iggy said again, turning to head down the stairs. “Hey Gallagher?” he called, and Lip and Ian turned carefully, Ian grimacing in pain. “You find out who the guy is? You tell me. Mickey and I will take care of him.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Ian mumbled and Iggy nodded, tapping the fence with the bottom of his fist before running off down the road.

It was slow moving once they got in the house. The stairs weren’t wide enough for them to walk side by side, so Lip stayed behind Ian to keep him from falling backwards, his hand wound in the boy’s shirt to keep him from falling forward.

“Ice,” Ian protested about halfway up, but Lip ignored him, giving him a gentle push.

“Take a shower first,” Lip said. “Get all the blood and gravel off ya and then I’ll get you ice.” Ian whimpered but nodded, leaning heavily against the bathroom door. Lip patted his arm as he squeezed past Ian, flipping the shower on. “Come on, clothes off,” he said, turning to give Ian some privacy as the boy slowly pulled his clothes off. Lip glanced over his shoulder, cursing at the bruise that stretched across Ian’s chest.

“Whoever did this clearly had no idea the ass kicking Mickey Milkovich would give him when he finds out,” Lip said, sitting down on the closed toilet seat in case Ian fell.

“It’ll be kind of hard for Mickey to kick his own ass,” Ian called over the shower and Lip cursed again, his eyes wide.

“Seriously? Mickey did this? What the fuck Ian?” Lip yelled over the running water and Ian let out a sigh, leaning his head against the wall.

“He’s getting married,” he called quietly, roughly trying to scrub the blood off his face. “To some bitch he supposedly knocked up. His dad’s making him.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Lip said, and Ian could smell the cigarette he lit.

“I might have pushed too far,” Ian said quietly. He shivered, the water already going cold. He shut the water off, holding his hand out of the curtain for a towel. Lip threw one at him, waiting for Ian to open the curtain. “I tried to get him to admit he loved me and that he was gay. Instead, he beat the shit out of me. I met have read something wrong.”

“Jesus,” Lip mumbled again, following Ian closely into his room. Ian pulled on a pair of shorts, wavering slightly as he looked for a shirt. “Just sit down,” Lip mumbled, pushing Ian onto the bed as he found him a shirt. “Wait here.” Lip ran down the stairs, grabbing the first bag of frozen vegetables he could find before running back up the stairs.

“Thanks,” Ian mumbled, laying back on his bed and pressing the bag of frozen carrots to his face.

“You know you don’t have to put up with this, right?” Lip said after a few moments of silence and Ian shrugged. “I mean it. I know you love him or you think you do, but he’d rather go to jail then admit he’s gay. Mickey would rather beat the shit out of you than admit he loves you. That’s not healthy, Ian.”

“I don’t want to talk about,” Ian mumbled, starting to roll over. Lip reached out and grabbed his elbow, staying still when Ian flinched.

“Wait. Go in my room. I know how you get when you’re like this, and I’m not sleeping on the couch ‘cause you won’t let Carl and Liam in the room.” Ian sighed, letting Lip pull him out of the bed. He followed down the hallway, lowering himself gently. He curled on his side with his back to the door, tucking the ice pack under his face. He could hear Lip shifting from one foot to the other at the door before his brother finally sighed. “Love you, buddy. You need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

And later that night when Lip checked on Ian, he pretended he didn’t see his shoulders shake with silent sobs and that he couldn’t smell the tears in the air.

* * *

 

“You fucked up this time, Milkovich,” Lip called later that night, and Mickey pushed away from the tree he was leaning against. Lip lit a cigarette, sitting on the bottom step, watching as Mickey slowly crossed the street. Mickey lit his own cigarette, stopping at the front gate.

“He in there?” Mickey asked, glancing up to the window that he knew was Ian’s.

“You mean did he make it home okay after you left him lying unconscious in the meat packing district? Yeah, he did. Your brother actually brought him home. Iggy even promised that if Ian remembered who did it that you and him will kick the shit out of the guy. But I guess it would be pretty hard to kick your own ass, huh, Mick?”

“Can I see him?” Mickey said, ignoring the taunting tone of Lip’s voice. “I need to see him.”

“What makes you think he’d want to see you?” Lip asked, spitting as he climbed to his feet.

“Gallagher, I’m serious. I need to see him,” Mickey said, taking a deep hit off his cigarette. “I need to know that he gets why I did this.”

“I’m not letting you in my house to beat the shit out of my little brother again,” Lip said, moving to stand in front of Mickey. Mickey rolled his eyes, trapping the cigarette between his lips as he held his hands up in surrender.

“Not what I meant, Gallagher. I need him to know that I’m doing this to save him from my dad.” Lip stared at him for a while, lifting a brow. “My dad walked in on us. He knows. That’s why I’m getting married. That’s why I’m going along with it. Not ‘cause I want to hurt him, but because if I don’t my dad will do worse.” Lip stared at him for a long time before nodding, moving aside to Mickey could get past. Mickey stubbed out his cigarette, climbing the front steps.

“Everyone’s asleep,” Lip said behind him, pointing up the stairs. Mickey was aware the Lip was right behind him but he didn’t complain. He’d take what he could get at this point. He started to cross the hallway to the room he knew was Ian’s once he got to the top of the stairs but Lip grabbed his arm and shook his head. “He’s in my room. He gets weird when he’s in a bad mood and I wanted to make sure Liam and Carl could still get to the bed.”

Mickey nodded, his hand poised above the handle on the sliding door. He slid the door open after a few moments of hesitation. Ian was curled on his side, his back to the door. His breathing was deep enough for Mickey to believe he was asleep, but every so often his body would shake as if he was trying to contain a sob. Mickey took a deep breath before crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. Lip stood in the door way watching, before nodding.

“I’ll be down the hall. Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispered before leaving.

“Ian,” Mickey whispered after a few moments, and he didn’t miss the way Ian tensed next to him. “Ian, look at me.”

“Here to finish me off,” Ian said back quietly, still keeping his back to Mickey.

“No,” Mickey said, chewing on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Little late for that,” Ian said, rolling over so he was on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“I didn’t mean it,” Mickey whispered, chewing at his thumb. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“You left me there. You literally kicked the shit out of me and left me there,” Ian murmured, finally glancing at Mickey. Mickey cursed under his breath, taking in the damage he’d done to Ian’s face. His lip and entire left side of his face was swollen, the skin already covered in bruises. He wore a cut off shirt and Mickey could see bruised ribs through the arm holes. Mickey reached out a hand to grab Ian’s arm, stopping short when the boy flinched away from him. “Don’t touch me,” Ian whispered, sitting up so his back was pressed against the wall behind him. He didn’t miss the gasp of breath when the action apparently hurt his ribs.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey whispered again, letting his hand fall against the bed. “You were right. I do, you know. I do love you.”

“You know, at the time I believed you really did,” Ian whispered, running a hand through his hair. “But after today? You can’t tell me you love me after that.”

“I promise you I didn’t mean it,” Mickey said, running a tired hand over his face. “I’m doing this to keep you safe. Do you get that?”

“How does kicking the shit out of me keep me safe?” Ian sneered, glaring at Mickey before turning his head back towards the window.

“If my dad…if my dad catches us together again, he’s going to kill you. Do you get that? He’s going to kill you nice and slow and he’s going to make me watch. And then after he gets done with you, he’s going to kill me. And I don’t care if he fucking kills me, okay? That’s fine-I’ve expected that my entire life. But I’m not going to let him get you. So if that means fucking pushing you away and marrying some whore, then so be it. I’ll do it, ‘cause that’ll keep him away from you.”

Mickey studied Ian’s face, watching as the boy clinched his jaw. Mickey bit his lip, rubbing his palms against his thighs.

“You’ve got to understand. I’ve tried to push you away over the past two years and obviously it didn’t work. But now it’s serious. You’ve got to stay away, or Terry’s gonna do worse to you than I ever could. So we’re going to keep our distance, and I’m going to marry Svetlona, and you’re going to get into West Point and get out of this fucking shit hole and find someone who can actually give you what you want.”

The two boys stayed silent for a while, neither one of them wanting to make eye contact. Finally Ian looked up at him, licking his busted lip and wincing.

“You could leave. You could get out of town, away from you r psychotic prick of a dad. If you don’t, he’s just going to kill you anyway.”

“You come with me?” Mickey asked, glancing up from his lap and meeting Ian’s eye.

“I’m not some fucking rag doll you can just drag along,” Ian growled, glaring at Mickey.

“I know you’re not,” Mickey reasoned, slowly reaching out to grab a hold of Ian’s arm. He pulled his hand back quickly, though, when Ian flinched again. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered, staring at Ian with sad eyes.

“See, I’d love to believe that but that’s all you’ve ever done…” Ian stayed quiet for a moment before clearing his throat and glancing up at Mickey. “I can’t go now.”

“And that means…” Mickey trailed off, not meeting Ian’s eye.

“That I can’t go now. Just…Just give me some time. I’ll think about it. I’ll find you.”

“You promise?” Mickey whispered, still staring at his hands twisted in his lap. He knew he was coming across as a pussy, but he just needed to know. He needed to be sure that Ian wasn’t going to finally give up on him.

“I promise.” Ian whispered, staring at the side of Mickey’s head. Mickey turned slowly meeting Ian’s eyes. He leaned in slowly, pausing when Ian flinched again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered, meeting Ian half way when the boy leaned forward. Mickey gently pressed their lips together, tasting the blood in his mouth from Ian’s split lip.

“I love you,” Ian whispered against Mickey’s lips and Mickey deepened the kiss slightly, his hand resting gently on Ian’s side.

“I love you,” Mickey whispered back, pressing one more kiss to Ian’s lips before climbing to his feet and leaving the room. He turned as he slid the door shut, nodding his head at Lip. As Mickey started to walk down the stairs, Lip grabbed his arm.

“Just know, if you ever hit my little brother again and there won’t be enough of you left for Terry to kill. You get me?”

“Yeah,” Mickey said, nodding his head as he shook his arm loose. “Got you. Don’t worry, I won’t be around long enough to do it again.” With that he descended the stairs, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

* * *

 

Mickey let himself into the quiet house, letting out a sigh of relief when he realized that no one was in the living room. He could hear his dad and brothers snoring upstairs and Mandy was still staying with their aunt. He hurried to his bedroom, throwing open his closet and pulling out the two duffle bags he owned. He filled the one with clothes, a couple of knives, and his .22. He pulled a hoodie that was stuck between his mattress and the wall, groaning when he realized it was Ian’s. Mickey shook his head and threw it in his bag. He pulled his pillow and blanket off his bed, too, just in case.

Mickey crossed his room, standing on the couch to reach poster at the top of the wall. He pulled it aside, reaching his hand in the hole behind it to pull out a small plastic bag with an envelope of cash and a few bags of weed inside. He’d been saving all his paychecks from the Kash and Grab since he’d started there, just in case. He pulled the poster down over the hole, before grabbing the other duffle bag and running into the kitchen.

He filled the bag with as much food that didn’t need to be refrigerated as possible. He reached in the fridge and pulled out a twelve pack of beer and a couple bottles of water and threw them in the bag. Mickey ran back to his room and grabbed his other bag, pillow and blanket before pausing at his dresser.

He’d been working on the old truck that had been stuck in the alley ever since he got out of Juvie. He’d been sure to make sure that no one else in the family knew the truck moved. Mickey dug the key out of the bowl on top of his dresser, hiking the bags over his shoulder as he quietly pulled the back door shut behind him. He held his breath as he turned the key, listening to the engine sputter a couple times before it completely turned over. Mickey had no idea where he was going, but anywhere was better than Chicago.

* * *

 

“GALLAGHER!” A loud voice game rocking through the house the next morning, shocking everyone awake. Fiona ran down the stairs, pausing to scoop up the bat as Lip came crashing down right behind her.

“Is that Terry Milkovich?” Fiona whispered, glancing outside the window as Lip pulled on a shirt.

“Fuck,” Lip sighed, putting the chain on before pulling the door open. “Get out of here, Terry!”

“Where’s the red headed faggot?” Terry growled, pushing at the door. Lip glanced back, hoping the chain would hold.

“He’s upstairs, but you aren’t going anywhere near him” Lip growled, tightening his grip on the door.

“Mickey’s gone. I know he’s with that fucking faggot. Where they go? You tell me where they went!”

“What’s going on?” Ian asked from the foot of the stairs, rubbing at the side of his face that wasn’t swollen.

“What happened to your face?” Fiona asked, staring at him with wide eyes but Lip sighed, slamming the door shut so he could take of the chain.

“Ian’s right here,” he yelled as he threw open the chain, grabbing the bat out of Fiona’s hands to keep Terry on the outside. “We don’t know where Mickey is. Clearly you haven’t kept as good of an eye on him as you think. And if I was your kid I’d get as far away from fucking Chicago as I could.”

“Where’s Mickey?” Terry growled, his eyes trained on Ian. Ian swallowed thickly, straightening his posture.

“I don’t know,” Ian said, clinching his jaw. “I haven’t seen him since he kicked the shit out of me yesterday.” He gestured to his bruised face. “Maybe he ran off with his fiancé?”

“I swear to God Gallagher if I hear you’ve been helping him, I’ll kill you. You hear me?”

“Crystal,” Ian said, jutting his jaw out. Terry sneered at him, pushing away from the door and jogging down the steps. Lip slammed the door, turning back to his two siblings.

“Care to explain what the fuck that was about?” Fiona asked, hands on her hips. “And why the hell Mickey Milkovich kicked the shit out of you?”

“It’s kind of a long story…” Ian whispered, crossing his arms over his bruised ribs.

“Well get talking. I have an hour before I have to get ready for work.” Ian sighed, following Fiona into the living room. The only thing he could focus on was Mickey got out. Mickey was finally safe, and that was all that mattered. 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be multiple fics that go along with this to build up to the big last story. I hope you liked it!


End file.
